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Sunday, August 29, 2010

The Eighth U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals has upheld the rights of free speech and peaceable assembly -- all it took was seven zombies and a simulated weapon of mass destruction.

Last week, the City of Minneapolis agreed to pay $165,000 to the so-called Zombie Seven, settling a case that over four years came to address far more than zombie make-up.

In 2006, seven friends got together in downtown Minneapolis as the city celebrated a weeklong Aquatennial. They were dressed like zombies and carried a few duffel bags filled with speakers and a microphone in what was supposed to be a piece of social commentary on mindless consumerism -- part prank, part political statement and part lighthearted street theater.

Raphi Rechitsky was one of the participants.

"This was a zombie dance party that a few of my acquaintances put together," he told AOL News. "I thought I would join, have a fun time instead of going out to the bars on a Saturday, get involved in some satirical social commentary and have some fun in the process." Not long after the zombie gathering began, police came by and asked the zombie protesters to turn down their music and not lurch toward any of the other pedestrians on the sidewalks. The zombies agreed and the police left. The group thought it was settled.

They could not have been more wrong.

An hour later, the police returned. The seven weren't performing anymore; they were watching a drumline perform and had put their equipment away.

But police took them into the station, where a sergeant had a bomb specialist examine the bags. The specialist confirmed that the bags didn't have anything other than speakers and wires, but the group was arrested, booked and jailed for simulated weapons of mass destruction, a state offense punishable by up to 10 years' imprisonment

Jake Sternberg, another member of the group, said the charge was concocted later.

"They knew what we had, because two officers had come up an hour earlier and asked us to turn it down," Sternberg said. "The police were rifling through our bags looking for drugs. They asked us, 'You like to travel, huh? We're going to make sure you never get on a plane again.' They did it on purpose.

"On my record it says 'weapons of mass destruction' and because of that, I can't even get into Canada. Once it's in the computer, it never comes out," Sternberg added. "The (arrest record being expunged) will be added on as a follow-up attachment, but not everybody will read that. That's what I'm facing for the rest of my life."

Rechitsky said the police used it so the group would have to remain in custody.

"Ultimately we were never charged with anything. And this is a part of the traumatizing experience of having this charge over your head while you're in for the weekend without getting bailed out."

Sternberg, who had lost the lower part of his leg from a motorcycle accident, had his prosthetic limb taken way so he couldn't use it as a weapon.

The group sued the City of Minneapolis and 13 of its police officers, but the police were granted a summary judgment by the court.

"It took six months to address the request for summary judgment," Sternberg said. "The judge was saying that because we were wearing 'funny clothes' our behavior and conduct was not protected First Amendment conduct."

Instead of feeling victorious, Rechitsky and Sternberg seem more relieved that it's just over.

"We would have liked to get a formal apology from the city for the abuse we endured; however, what we wanted was to protect freedom of artistic, social and political expression for others in the future," Rechitsky said. "We already won that because of the appeals court decision, who rightly sided with us and the First Amendment.

"The city mentioned that it was in their interests to settle. And I certainly agree with that, because we could have taken this to trial and won, won a much larger settlement that would have cost the taxpayers much more money, but we didn't want to do that. We had already obtained a decision from the appeals court that protected freedom of political expression for others in this position."

Sternberg agreed, but he didn't think he would have changed anything if he faced the experience again.

"I want people to learn from this, I want people to understand," he said. "For me to say that I regret that would be to say that we live in a society where we're afraid to dance on the street. I won't say that. No way."

Thursday, August 26, 2010

I really don’t think I’m very interesting so coming up with 10 Things About Me that y’all might find worth reading is really difficult. Sage and Beryl, the bitches( I kid!) the bloggers who tagged me with this used different things to tell you about themselves. Since my bedside table holds a large box of “toys”, a smaller box of “toys”, a basket of lubes and hand lotion and books, lots of books, that’s just boring. I’m going to tell you 10 things about me by looking at my “sewing room.”

1. Massage/facial table, steamer, mag lamp, product cart ~ A couple of years ago, I decided I wanted to become an esthetician so I went to school. I’m now a licensed esthetician and body wrapper (not licensed to make mummies, just for body “facials’). I was hoping that I could finally break free of my mind-numbing, soul-sucking desk job and make money doing something I love. Just around the time I graduated, the economy tanked and I’m still at the desk job – mindless and soulless – hoping for a miracle. If you’re ever down by me, stop by, I’ll give you a facial, wax your hairy bits, whatever!

2. Dolls ~ I have a display cabinet with dolls in it. Not those creepy old porcelain dolls, They scare the beejesus out of me. I have Madame Alexander dolls that go back to the 1950’s. Not a lot of them but a few special ones. I also have a small collection of Living Dead Dolls and a couple of Barbie dolls. I have a Bloomingdale’s Barbie and The Birds Barbie. I wish I’d kept my original Barbie’s, I’d be rich! I also have some original Troll Dolls. I can’t part with them even though they are going for big bucks on eBay.

3. Sewing machine ~ Yup. I know how to sew, with a machine and by hand. Back in the day, schools taught Home Economics. You learned how to cook, sew, iron, and be good wife type things. I took four years of Home Ec. It was an easy A. I don’t like to sew clothing. I like “crafty” things, like my Zombie Mommies.

4. More books. I read a lot.

5. Part of my skull collection ~ In addition to dolls and certain teddy bears; I also have an ever growing skull collection. I find bones, particularly, skulls fascinating. I tend to like the dark side of things in general.

6. Jewelry making paraphernalia. ~ Beads, chain, charms, tools, wire – you name it, I got it. Right now I’m working on some necklaces made with chandelier crystals. They’re pretty cool if I do say so myself!

7. Stitching supplies. ~ I am multi-crafty. In addition to the sewing, I can also do needlework. Cross stitch, needlepoint, and hardanger. Stitching is very relaxing because I have to concentrate on the chart; it keeps all the noise in my head away.

8. My itty-bitty flat screen TV. ~ I have to have a television in the room. I’m addicted to TV. I’ll watch Law & Order and Bones reruns over and over again. My newest show to watch is Gene Simmons Family Jewels on A&E. He just cracks me up. This little TV is also a DVD player so I can catch up on True Blood and Dexter while I sew or make jewelry!

9. I have a very old pair of pinking shears hanging on the wall behind my sewing machine. They came from the company my father worked for before he died. He was a salesman for a woolen company in New York. The pinking shears were used to cut yardage. He had brought them home for my mother who also liked to sew. The shears are a keepsake from both of my parents. Even though my father died when I was very young and my mother was a bitch on wheels, I still have sentimental feelings about them now and again.

10. The closet. ~ This is where my leather corset, skirt, dress and bra are kept. Also my boned, satin under bust corset. And where my floggers and Wartenberg wheel are hidden along with my tiny porn collection. I don’t care much for porn, just can’t really get into it. Now erotica is different – I do love to read erotica!

So, now you know 10 Things About Me that you probably really didn’t want to know! I’m not going to tag anyone but if you want to let us know about YOU! feel free to steal the button and have at it. Let me know if you do!

Thank you Sage and Beryl for giving me the award and wanting to know more about me!

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Thank you to everyone who bought something from my Etsy shop in the last two weeks. We were able to raise $75.00 to send to "Boo".

Monday, August 23, 2010

If you think back to how major life forming events began, you’ll realize that the smallest things – an egg and sperm meet, a condom tears, a wasp, one drink too many – are what may cause the biggest catalysts.

In D.J. Kirkby’s book, Without Alice, it’s the small events in life that formed the paths the characters lives took. The book goes on to examine how those paths intersected. From the start, I was intrigued, wondering how three separate newly forming families would coalesce into a story. Needless to say, I found the book a great readand was amazed at how the lives of the characters intertwined.

Reading is escape and entertainment for me. I really dislike having to sort out hidden meanings and esoteric author meanderings. Without Alice, made me think but in an enjoyable way. One of the reasons that I found thinking about the book agreeable was because I didn’t like the protagonist. I kept trying to like him, to find the redeeming qualities that he had. While I did feel he had somewhat atoned for his failings at the end, I never could quite like him. But it was his shortcomings and his way of making amends for his behavior and failures that affected the course of so many of the other characters lives. So even though I thought Stephen the weak link in the chain, he managed through his failures and triumphs to forge bonds of happiness and love for others.

D.J. definitely can tell a story well. As with her first book, From Zaftig to Aspie, she hooks you and reels you into the book right from the start. One of my favorite things about an author! Without Alice will make you think, will make you angry, will make you smile and will make you cry. It will also make you want to read more from D.J.

You can buy Without Alice before it's official October 4, 2010 publication date by going to PUNKED BOOKS!

You can also find out more about the very talented (she makes her own jam, jellies and WINE!!!) by reading her blog ~Chez Aspie, I highly recommend it!

Monday, August 16, 2010

St. Augustine, Florida is located on the Atlantic Ocean about 45 minutes south of Jacksonville. It’s the oldest city in America, settled by the Spanish in 1565. The city was once enclosed by a huge stone-like (coquina) wall with a fort on one end. The fort and the city gates remain today. FlaglerCollege is located in St. Augustine. The building used to be the grand Ponce de Leon Hotel opened by Henry Flagler in January 1888. It’s a gorgeous building with Tiffany glass windows here and there. There are numerous old houses and buildings in St. Augustine now housing shops, offices and restaurants for the delight of tourists (and residents) alike. It’s a very fun place to visit.

So, enough with the history and on with the good stuff – The Ghost Tour!

I believe in ghosts, spirits, poltergeists, parallel time, reincarnation, all that stuff. I LOVE it! Now, I haven’t seen one damn “orb” or any ectoplasm on any of the ghost tours I’ve ever taken but hope springs eternal.

The Spanish tidily laid out the city of St. Augustine in a nice grid. They didn’t use the same principal when burying their dead. Graves seem to be scattered higgly-piggly in the cemeteries throughout the city and many bodies (or parts of them) never ended up in a cemetery at all! If you were Catholic back in the day, when you died, you could be buried inside the walls of St. Augustine. If not, you were assigned to be planted out in the wilds. TolomatoCemetery is the oldest one within the city dating from the 1700’s. There are several ghosts that haunt Tolomato, one is The Ghost Bride. She’s been seen wandering around in dressed in her wedding dress and veil. She’s a young woman that died unexpectedly on the eve of her wedding; she was buried in her gown and is still looking that one man that was going to make her dreams come true. (Aren't we all?)

James, another restless spirit, is 5 years old. His grave is set apart from all the other graves near a huge oak tree. James has been seen playing on the ground and in the tree, mostly by young children.

I don’t think the ghost of Father Verot stuck around the cemetery. He was the first Bishop of St. Augustine. When he died in 1867, the church wanted to make sure everyone who was coming from near and far to pay their respects got a chance to look at the Bishop before he was interred. 1867, folks. No planes and Florida was pretty much a backwater state then. A very hot, very humid, backwater state. The elders decided to seal the departed, unembalmed Bishop up in a metal coffin with a glass window since the sawdust and ice his regular coffin was setting in wasn’t holding up too well. During the church service for the burial of Bishop Verot, his metal and glass coffin exploded spreading bits of the Bishop all over the congregation to say nothing of the stench that permeated the chapel. Needless to say, the remaining bits and pieces of Bishop were hastily put in a mausoleum that was occupied by a previously deceased priest. The bones of that priest were gathered up into a pillowcase and were set on top of Bishop Verot’s newly constructed coffin. Both the Bishop and his tomb mate have since been moved to separate quarters.

During the 1800’s the gates of the city were still operational and there was, of course, a gatekeeper. The gatekeeper around the time of the 1821 yellow fever epidemic had a young daughter named Elizabeth. She liked to come to the gates with her father and greet all the visitors to the city. Because Elizabeth was on the front lines, she became one of the first victims of the epidemic. Her ghost can be seen around the gates to this day, still greeting visitors to St. Augustine. Again, children seem to see her most often.

Because not everyone in St. Augustine was Catholic, a “public” cemetery became necessary. The HuguenotCemetery (1821) was built right outside the gates of the city. If your family had $4.00 when you died, you were allowed to be buried inside the wrought iron fence. Judge John B. Stickney died in 1882 of yellow fever and was buried in the HuguenotCemetery. Several years passed and his family decided to have him exhumed and moved closer to where they were now living. The gravediggers decided it would be okay to take some of the Judge’s gold teeth and jewelry as he really wasn’t using them anymore. Apparently this didn’t set well with the Judge because he can be seen crawling around or walking around the cemetery looking at the ground. I assume he’s looking for his stolen teeth or possibly pieces of the Bishop that might have landed near him.

Another haunted spot is the country’s Oldest Drug Store. When it was built, the builders digging the foundation came across a bunch of bones that they dug up and tossed in a mass grave across the street. The apothecary got all set up for business but on the morning of the grand opening, the owners came in to find the place trashed. They cleaned up and decided to try again the next day. That morning, same thing – broken bottles, medicines scattered. This went on for awhile before someone told them that the shop was built on an Indian burial ground and they had disrespected the spirits. Not wanting to continue to spend money without making any, the owners dug up part of the floor and foundation, got the bones from across the street and reburied them. After that, they had no problems.

Seeing that amputated body parts were tossed out the windows of the OldMilitaryHospital and buried where they landed, there are numerous Indian burial grounds and that people who weren’t Catholic or didn’t have the $4.00 to be buried within the public cemetery gates, it’s no wonder that St. Augustine is one of the most haunted cities in America.

I can’t wait to hear about the ghost squirrel looking for his nuts by the HuguenotCemetery!

Friday, August 13, 2010

A couple of days ago I purchased a domain name(www.dustbunnyinthewind.com) for this blog through Blogger. Apparently, they are going to transition the blog over. That's very nice of them but ...... almost immediately after the purchase, my Blog Roll disappeared! Gone! POOF!

I'm now in the process of gathering my favorite blogs again. Y'all can help me (and save me some time) by emailing me at nitebyrds@gmail.com with your URL or leaving it in the comments. I'll definitely appreciate it.

Monday, August 9, 2010

The great Charles Shultz wrote those words for Snoopy in Peanuts. They sum up my outlook on human beings perfectly. I seriously fucking hate people.

*** WARNING! I AM GOING TO INSULT PEOPLE THAT CALL THEMSELVES “GOOD CHRISTIANS” IN THIS POST. IF THAT’S GOING TO BOTHER YOU THEN YOU’D BETTER FUCK OFF RIGHT NOW!!! ***

I’ve never been a “people person”. As a child, I was painfully shy and had been made to feel second rate by my mother and sister. I only had a few BFF’s in my early and teenage years. And only one very close friend in college. I’m skeptical, wary, cynical and cautious. I never want to be in the spotlight so I spend a lot of time observing. Let me tell you, most of the time the view sucks ass. People are pathetic as a group. There are some individuals that I like very much and some that I even love, but I don’t have a dearth of friendships or even acquaintances. The mourners at my funeral will all be able to come in a mini-van. Since becoming a zombie, my inclination to make additional in –person/real life friends is nil. If y’all watch “Dexter” you’ll understand when I say I identify with him. The total lack of emotion he has resonates with me. Dexter has to fake normal human emotions in business and social situations. It’s truly mentally and physically exhausting. I do the same. Now, before you get your shorts all up in a knot, I’m not a psychopath. I haven’t killed anyone … yet. I just have no emotions and must pretend. It is a totally tiring process, which leads me to why I hate people and why you’d better watch your ass when someone says they’re a “good Christian.” My observation is, if they have to tell you that then they probably aren’t.

Years ago, I used to be a human and was an excellent sales person. I could sell thousands of dollars worth of “limited edition collector plates”. If someone could sell that shit, they could sell anything. Recently, I began selling BeautiControl products because I really like them and believe in them. I don’t get all fanatical about them but will chat them up if someone is interested. This is a multi-level marketing scheme like all that stuff – Tupperware, Juice Plus, Slumber Parties, etc. I’m not interested in “building a team” – see the “I hate people” references. But I will do the occasional home party when asked.

I was asked by a young school teacher to host a Spa Party at her church. I agreed, sent her all the necessary info, called her to follow-up, etc. I did what I am supposed to do. She also did exactly what she was supposed to. The day before, I called her to get a count of attendees. She told me she had 10 RSVP’s. I arrived promptly at the arranged time and waited 30 minutes for the rest of her guests. Two guests besides the hostess arrived. One of those guests brought her 12 year old daughter. I went on with the Spa, demonstrating, answering questions – in short doing my job with a smile. Both of her guests booked a Spa. Each one was given three little gifts for booking the party. One of the guests ordered some product but had no money. I agreed to wait (not giving her the product – I might be a zombie but I ain’t stupid!) until the following Friday when she got paid. She never called. Both women scheduled their parties this past weekend. At the end of the evening, I got prayed over so that Jesus would cure me of smoking and take away my hot flashes. (Being the Godless bitch that I am, can you imagine the look on my face!?!) I’m open minded and although I knew Jesus probably had better things to do and doesn't want to mess with Mother Nature, I went along with it. (Still smoking through my hot flashes as I write this.)

I once again sent the two confirmed hostesses their info, called to follow-up, left voice mail messages because they didn’t answer their phones, etc. Again, did what I’m supposed to do. *crickets* Tuesday, I once again called each lady. The one who answered her phone said she was still trying to get a hold of her pastor to see if she could use the church to hold the Spa. I told her to please call me by Thursday to let me know. She makes no mention of the fact that she still owes money for the product she’s ordered from the original party. In the meantime, a woman who I’ve never waxed before called me for an appointment on Friday at 2:00 for waxing.(I don't know if she is a "Christian" but she pissed me off so I'm putting her in this "I Hate People" post.) The second Spa lady still hasn’t called me and now it’s Wednesday. Call again, leave another message.

Thursday comes and goes, nothing from the first Spa lady, whose party is on Friday. I will not call again. This ain’t baseball, you don’t get three strikes with me. I get up very early Friday to do some house cleaning and get ready for the waxing. I’m all set by 2:00 and I sit down with DJ Kirkby’s book “Without Alice” to wait. At 4:00, I call the Saturday Spa lady again and leave another message. The waxing lady hasn’t called or shown up. I unplug the wax pot. At least my floors got washed and carpets got vacuumed, so it wasn’t a total loss.

Saturday at 10:00 am, I call the woman who is supposed to have the Spa that day. I leave a voice mail that I need to hear from her by 3:00 or the party will be cancelled. At 3:17 she calls me to tell me, she’s sorry and that, “Yes! The party is still on!”. I make all my preparations and show up at her house at the scheduled time. She tells me she doesn’t know how many guests she’ll have as she hasn’t gotten any RSVP’s. (I’m truly glad that I didn’t have a weapon handy.) I had prepared for 10 people. She then informs me that her 12 year old daughter is having a sleep-over that night and she knows the mothers of 2 girls will be coming. At the time the party is supposed to happen, she asks me if she should call her invitees since no one has shown up. *sigh*. The woman who was supposed to have a Spa on Friday, the same one that never bothered to pay for the product she ordered, was also supposed to come to this party. She didn’t (her excuse was, she was dog sitting) and I still have heard from her.

Fifteen minutes later, the two mothers of the sleep-over girls show up, one has a 10 and 8 year old, the other a 2.5 year old. I now am the entertainment for the sleep-over. Before I start, the hostesses begins with a prayer. Luckily, it was silent ‘cause they sure as hell didn’t what to know what I was saying. I go through my performance for three women and four little girls. Needless to say, I had no orders from this party but really didn’t care. I have no desire to see any of these women again.

So you can see my weekend was just ducky.

When I was young someone told me about The Golden Rule, it made sense. Even being an antisocial type of person, I figured that was a good rule to follow in life. I also was told that God made us in his image and that Jesus died for our sins. If we’re made in God’s image then he must know we have good and evil in us, right? Our job should be to minimize the evil and maximize the good. Free will and all that. If Jesus died for our sins then what’s the point of praying to God to forgive us? Do people pray to God on Sunday to forgive them for fucking people over all week and have a fresh start on Monday? The “church ladies” told me that I must open my heart to find Jesus. Well, my shriveled little heart is open but I don’t hang out in prison or rehab so I haven’t “found” him yet. They also adamantly disagreed with me when I said that I believe that God is Allah, Jehovah, Buddha, etc. “No, no” they said. Their God was God and his son was Jesus.

My point is, if you don’t go to church, if you never “find” Jesus, if you live your life trying to do what’s right, will God forsake you? Or, will God love you because you spoke to him in the beauty of the world or in a hospital room or on a battlefield or on top of a mountain and he knows you tried to live in what you understood to be his image? I don’t know. The “church ladies” have a definite theory about it but I’m not inclined to take it to heart because they couldn’t live, in my opinion, by one very simple rule.

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About me

This is a blog by a woman in her 50's who is finally on the crooked path to find who she truly is.
Married at 19 and divorced at 53. I am going to unearth the artist, the cynic, the free spirit that has been long buried. Or die trying.
I've left Bethlehem
and I feel free...
I've left the girl I was supposed to be
and some day I'll be born.
~Paula Cole